Fallen Angel
by BackwardsMuffin
Summary: How can you ever forget someone who gave you so much to remember?   She was gone, and they knew that. But somehow, they just couldn't say goodbye.
1. Chapter 1

Kurt trudged through the fields, walking parallel to a large dry stone wall, his fingers bouncing along the rough surface as he travelled. His other hand clutching a bouquet of deep red roses.

He travelled along for what seemed like forever, until he reached a large willow tree that stood by the edge of a small lake. Scattered beneath the swaying branches were the most beautiful pink carnations. Kurt stopped for a moment and surveyed the scene, so peaceful and tranquil.

He got to his knees and crawled up to the tree, until he was seated with his back resting against the soft bark. He felt his bottom lip begin to tremble; he bit it harshly, almost drawing blood. He felt his eyes sting as salty tears pooled up in the corners.

'Life is so cruel.' He murmured, running his hands across the petals of the beautiful roses. 'What we had, it was so perfect. We had our whole lives to spend together. You and I, laughing in the sun. Playing around in the garden, singing to each other as we baked those chocolate cookies you used to love. It was all so, unbelievably perfect. Just like you. Your smile, it brightened up the room, and your giggle that made everyone melt'

'It's all I want, all I ever wanted.' He placed the roses on a small plaque in the ground by his hips, removing the dry and crumbling flowers that were previously lying upon it. 'Just to see you smile and laugh again, to run around with me and hold my hand. To sing with me, and dance. I want to see your recitals and your sports games and your paintings you used to bring home. I still keep them you know, everyone one. In frames, or stuck to the refrigerator. Just little reminders of what we had.'

'It's just so unfair.' A solitary tear leaked from his closed eyes and ran down his porcelain cheek before splashing onto the bronze plaque below. 'They told me it would get easier, everyday, little by little, it would get better. But it hasn't. Baby, I miss you so much, this has been the longest and most painful year of my life. But I still feel the same as I did that first day, when I was told the news. It tore me apart. It tore us apart. I just don't see it ever getting better. You were my life, my soul, everything I could have dreamed for and more. Why did you have to go?'

Kurt opened his eyes and slowly wiped away his falling tears with the sleeve of his black jacket. 'I just wish you were here. Everyday, every minute, every second. I feel incomplete, like a part of my soul has been ripped from within me.'

He fished about in his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, he smoothed it out on his lap and ran his finger around the outlines of two faces, huddled tightly together, smiling broadly into the camera one sunny afternoon in May.

'It was perfect. You were perfect. I hope you never forget that. I never will. Your beautiful blue eyes, like precious stones. Your mop of chocolate hair like mine, and that one dimple. It always brought a smile to my face.'

'Now what's left to smile for?'

He turned his gaze away from the carnations and lay down. He allowed his body to become completely loose and melt into the ground, he stared up through the branches of the tree. The breeze creating a slow rustling sound.

'Is there a heaven? Is it nice in there? Are there the angels like you always said, or the fluffy white swans? You always believed in heaven didn't you. But me...I never could, no matter how I tried, I just couldn't.'

'I wish more than anything that I could. You deserve it. You deserve a heaven; YOU deserve the perfect heaven, the perfect heaven for my perfect girl.' He turned forcefully onto his side and stared at the plaque. The tear slowly drying on the letters in the warm summer sun.

A fresh wave of emotion struck Kurt like the ocean tide.

'To Hell with it, you don't even deserve to be up there in that place. Damn the swans, and damn the angels, you should be here.'

' Right here'.

' On earth,'

'...with me'.

'With your daddy.'

He traced the small letters, breathing heavily as he stared.

'I need you baby, I really really need you. I don't know what I'm going to do, what can I do? Help me baby, tell me what to do. Tell me how to make the pain stop.'

He let out a wavering sigh and sat up.

He came here every day. He would sit and talk. About life, about loss and about everything he wished for.

Everyday a new set of emotions would fill him. Sorrow, grief, anger, love, loss, yearning. He couldn't handle it.

It was all so much.

And a year.

A whole year,

Almost to the day

Of this. Pure, raw emotion that filled him up until the point where he wanted to scream and break down into a mangled pile of tears.

Why?

That was his only question.

Why?

Why did that car have to be there?

Why did it have to turn the corner?

Why did it have to spin?

Why did it have to knock the little girl from her bicycle?

And why was that baby girl now buried six feet under the ground?

To anyone watching, he was just a man who came there to be with his thoughts, there in the silence by the lake. But he was never really alone, and it was never really quiet. He could still hear the screeching of rubber along the tarmac as the drunk driver fled, the screams echoing in his ears as his baby hit the road, the smashing of his heels as he ran towards her.

He could see the battered body of a child, lying next to a broken bike, see the blood flowing from her head, and see her brown locks of hair, soiled by the foul red substance.

The screams were so loud, and so real, like he was there, all over again.

The pain, the horror and the alarm when the first scream rang out, and the devastation and fear when she finally lay quiet.

Then the sound of sirens, the frantic calls of an ambulance crew, the clanging and smashing of hospital machinery, the squeaking wheels of the gurney containing his child, the bleeps of the heart monitor and the monotone wail when the heart stopped beating.

He leant down and kissed the bronze square. The light gently glistening from it angelically.

_Willow-Hope Elizabeth Hummel._

_May 7__th__ 2021- May 30__th__ 2029_

_Most beloved daughter,_

'_Hope is like a bird that senses the dawn and carefully starts to sing while it is still dark'_

Kurt desperately tried to blink away his tears, he had cried too much. So very much over the past year. He didn't have the energy to cry again. The countless sleepless nights, nightmares, endless walks, therapy sessions, funerals, and mourning had left him an empty shell of the man he once was.

But slowly, he allowed the tears to free flow from his eyes, staining his skin with red and pink.

'Say hello to your grandma for me. She would have loved you too you know. More than you can possibly imagine. We all did. You were our shining beacon of hope and love. Little Willow-Hope. My angel. My beautiful perfect baby angel. WHY CAN'T YOU COME BACK?'

Kurt stood up and marched to the side of the lake and screamed.

Screamed for all the world to hear.

He stamped his feet in the water, not caring if the splashes damaged his suit or his shoes. He just wanted it all to end. Why?

Why was this happening?

Why had someone felt the need to rip his baby girl from this world? Why?

She was eight.

Just a baby. A tiny little, beautiful baby girl. She was kind and funny and gentle and caring and the perfect embolism of human life. And now she was gone.

Kurt collapsed. He knees buckled and he fell into the shallow water. He let the ripples glide across the body and the cold bite of the water take over him.

And he cried. He cried for her. For her kindness, for her love, for her joy, for her hope, for her hair, for her skin, and for her smile. He cried for his daughter, the only thing he wanted to see, but the one thing he knew he never could.


	2. Chapter 2

Blaine sat, staring at the night sky above him. Clutching his phone so tightly his knuckles were turning a ghostly white.

Everything was silent. No movements at all, nothing stirring, no rustling wind or shrill shrieks from the neighbours. All was perfectly still and quiet.

It was as if they knew. They were keeping quiet just for him, so he could have that moment. Those brief few seconds when everything went back to how it was before.

He could be whole. He could have hope. Even if it would be drowned out after the 14 seconds it took, and he would once again return to being a dark empty calloused shell of the person he once was.

Kurt was out, visiting her grave. Blaine knew that. He knew that at this very moment Kurt's eyes were streaming and he was drowning in his own sorrow. And he wasn't there for him, he just-he just couldn't. It hurt too much. It just hurt too goddamn much.

Every time he saw the tree and the flowers and the little bronze plaque that encompassed everything he loved. He couldn't handle it. He would break down and beg for the earth to open up and swallow him whole. And he couldn't let that happen, not now, not ever again. He needed to be there for Kurt. Kurt needed to have someone to hold, and someone to comfort him. He needed to be strong for his husband.

The only person he loved more than anything in the world. The person who seemed to have lost everything in his.

That tree. That was what did it for Blaine.

It used to live at the bottom of their garden. They planted it the day Willow was born. It was just a sapling, looking so small and delicate, like the slightest breath of wind could snap it clean in half.

But it didn't. Summer faded into Fall, then to Winter, then to Spring and it still stood there, proud and noble, and then the round of seasons began again, and it would grow and become stronger and stronger, in perfect harmony with the little girl.

And the day she had died something changed in that tree.

The colour faded and all the leaves turned brown and fell to the ground all crisp and brittle. The reds and auburns filled the garden instead of the luxurious deep greens that once roamed there. The strength was gone, and misery now resided there.

He had to stop. He had to stop doing this. This wretched thing he had been doing since day one. Every holiday or anniversary or just anything that held some significance to the family, he would come out here, and stare. Kurt would go to the tree and he would just stare up at the night sky and count all the stars. Like he and Willow used to do. He would spot the constellations and name them aloud for all to hear.

Somehow, he knew, that where ever she was. She would be staring at the same stars right now, and that was something he could hold onto.

Willow had always loved the stars.

She was going to be a star one day. Even from the age of 5 she had said she was going to be famous. She would sing every day, and dance with her dad's. She said Broadway was her calling and she was always so. Damn. Stubborn. She was going to make it big. Everyone knew it.

She would be on the stage singing her lungs out, not in some wooden coffin 6 feet under the ground with no breath left with her to even form one note.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back as far as it would go. He couldn't dwell on these memories. It was too painful, he had to let it go. He had to. But he couldn't. He just needed to do that one little thing, then he could stop.

He repeated it to himself over and over again as he flipped the phone over in his hand. The numbers glared out at him as he fumbled with the dial pad. He pressed 2 with such commitment, he knew what was to come...

_One ring._

There was nothing, he knew there was nothing.

_Two rings._

No one would pick up, why was he doing this to himself?

_Three rings._

Maybe if he wished hard enough, it would be a real person that answered. Please someone pick up!

_Four rings._

He had to keep trying. He couldn't let it go.

_Five rings._

Why couldn't he let it go?

_Silence._

'Hey, This is the amazing Willow. I'm out at the moment...or have been kidnapped by death eaters. Either way I'll try and get back to you. Otherwise, call my dad's and they'll ring you instead Byeee.'

_Beep._

The silence echoed around. It was painfully still now, no longer soothing, just leaving more room to feel the horrific sadness and emotion that was filling him up. A year, she had been gone a year, and that shrill little whisper of happiness that flowed from the phone still cut him just as deep, and his heart still bled just as much as the first day.

'H-Hey sweetie. It's me. Your daddy.' He took in a deep breath as the phone shook violently in his sweaty hand.

'I know you'd call me stupid, still doing this after all this time, but... but it's a special occasion and all.'

He sniffed loudly as a single tear splashed against the receiver.

'Other daddy isn't here at the moment. He's away with the tree, with you. So I guess I'll say this alone today... Happy Birthday darling.'

With that, the boundary burst, tears started pouring from Blaine's eyes as he tried to take in slow and steady breaths to calm himself down.

'Y-you'd be 12 now.' He said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve as a small smile spilt across his lips.

'I'm so proud of you. My big girl. All grown up. 12, I still can't believe it.'

He laughed breathily into the phone which was mere inches from his face.

'I remember when you were still in your diapers, and daddy and I kept having to steal our phones away from you. Well you have one now, you've had it for a year.'

He shook his head weakly. She had been begging for that for months, and they finally caved in once she turned 11, promising her a better one once she turned 12.

'It's funny. By this point I thought you'd be fending off all those boys, fighting to get your number. At least Grandpa doesn't have to get out his flamethrower eh?'

He snorted at his own feeble attempt at humour.

What was he trying to achieve here?

She would never get this message, no one ever would.

No one would be there to hear his joke, and laugh at it through gritted teeth and tell him how rubbish he was at being funny. Tell him to stick to the singing. And he had no one to chase around and tickle for being cheeky, and no one to hug once the skirmish ended

No one to kiss goodnight.

No one to hold in his arms.

No one.

He was rambling. The phone message would be all disjointed, and if anyone were to get it, what sort of person would they think he was?

'I-I should go sweetie. But- I love you'

'I love you more than you can possibly imagine.'

'I wish I had told you more often, you deserve to hear it every day. I-I love you. Happy Birthday...I-I-I love you.'

He pressed end call, and set the phone down on the cold stone table next to him, and returned to his star gazing.

Blaine closed his eyes and let the soothing sounds of the night creep into his subconscious, the previous silence now filled with the slow croak of insects, and the hum of the road nearby. He needed to get some sleep. Tomorrow was another day in the never ending countdown he now faced.

It didn't matter how many times he called Willow's number; his daughter could never answer. Her voice would never change and her message would still ring the same lines over and over again.

Blaine would never see his daughter laugh or sing again. She would never again dance into the kitchen and give him a hug. She would never give Kurt and him another impromptu performance. She would never answer her phone.

No matter how many times he rang. He was kidding himself.

She was never coming back. And he needed to let go. Just move on, and try and live his life with Kurt.

But how could he ever do that.

It was too hard.

How can you ever forget someone who gave you so much to remember?


End file.
